Best Friends
by Wamakai
Summary: Oneshot: Giotto x Reader fic set after he escapes from Italy. Let me know how it feels being the potential Mrs. Ieyasu Sawada?


**Okay, so I saw a couple of these and I had absolutely no idea how hard it is to write a fanfic in the second person! Good grief! Even the tenses change and the pronouns and all sorts of boring English structures that I really don't want to get into, but here is my effort at trying to pair you, the lovely reader, with Vongola Primo, perhaps after he retired from the Vongola and moved to Japan. So, R&R? Let me know your experience as the possible future Mrs. Ieyasu Sawada? Many thanks :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I am only responsible for the plot. I don't own Vongola Primo or you (or your mum; just read and find out) so, that's that sorted!**

Perhaps it was the mess of blonde hair that drew your attention first. He was sitting on the other end of the school grounds alone. Beneath that golden mass, you saw a face that seemed... sad? Helpless? Maybe both. He seemed old enough to be about your age. Your curiosity was sparked and there was no stopping it now.

It must suck to be the new guy in school, and your friend was sick that day so you couldn't have lunch together. Your mother's oat cookies would go to waste if you didn't find someone to share them with, so why not. It was the perfect chance to make a friend.

You went and sat beside him and smiled. He looked at you and returned your smile.

"Hello, I'm [Name]," you said cheerily.

"Ieyasu Sawada, but you can call me Giotto," he said sitting up a little straighter.

"Nice to meet you. You're new here, aren't you?" you said offering him a cookie. He nodded accepting the cookie.

"Thank you. Yes, I suppose I'm new. I just moved here from Italy," he said and took a bite of the cookie. His eyes widened as he looked at the cookie then at you.

"Is something wrong?" you asked worrying that he was allergic to one of the ingredients.

"No, it's not that. This is really good; did you make them yourself?" he asked finishing the cookie. You smiled relieved and offered him another which he gladly accepted.

"No, my mother makes them. I'm learning to make them myself, but I can't seem to get them quite right..." you broke off remembering that you had to be the only girl in College who let her mother pack her special cookies for her.

And you had just admitted it to the new kid too! And cue the stupid parade. _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ You thought to yourself and waited for him to tease you.

"I would like to taste yours some day," he said with a rather sunny smile. You blinked at him surprised. He hadn't embarrassed you like you had imagined he would. You smiled back and bit into one of the cookies. You had a good feeling about this.

You promised yourself that come what may, you would make Giotto your best friend ever.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Oh please Giotto, come on. I promise I'll help you with your Physics homework. I'll make you cookies... Or, I know, I'll make an I-have-the-best-friend-in-the-whole-world poster and wear it every day for a week, no a month! Please, please, please?" you said putting your best puppy dog look. You would only ever use it in the most dire situations and this was it.

Your friends had invited you to a couples party and though it was common knowledge that you were still single, the demon that had possessed you that day had made you promise to 'bring the guy you'd been seeing on the sly', that is, the non-existent being you were currently trying to replace with your best friend.

He sighed and tapped his head with his pen.

"How did this happen again?" he asked.

"Please?" You said again with a mournful pout. He sighed and leaned back in his chair crossing his arms.

"You'll help me with all my assignments and make your 'famous cookies' for me for a month," he said finally. You sighed. It couldn't be as bad as all that. You opened your mouth to agree when he interrupted you:

"And you have to do what I say for a week, deal?"

You huffed and looked away. There was no getting off easy with him. Well, for a temporary boyfriend, you had to do it. It was either that or embarrass yourself thoroughly by showing up alone... You crossed your arms and raised your face.

"Alright, fine. I'll do it. But you had better make it good Sawada Ieyasu or I won't accept," you said and marched out the way you came without a backward glance.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You had just finished touching up your make-up and checking your hair a third time when there was a knock on the door. You rushed to open it. You missed the look that had crossed Giotto's face before you turned your back to him and went to look for your purse on the living room seats. He leaned back against the door frame with his arms crossed as he watched you rush about then finally smile and walk to him, coat in hand.

You walked out and he shut the door behind you. He waited for you to lock it then led you to his car. So far so good.

The party went off without a hitch. Your friends couldn't believe that you had been going out with Giotto, but this proved it... almost. He was the perfect gentleman all night; pulling out your chair, kissing your hand, helping you up, asking you to dance. He was laying on the charm pretty thick. Chalk one up for his Italian blood! You almost forgot yourself for a moment there when he whispered something rather funny in your ear.

It was all for image's sake, you had to remind yourself for the fourth time that evening, but Giotto really would make the perfect boyfriend. Well, he was doing this much so you would have to hold up your end of the bargain, a fate you weren't too sure you liked...

Later that night, he took you home and walked you to your door. You fumbled with your keys while he waited for you. Finally, after three minutes of digging, you found them and unlocked the door. The look you saw when you turned back to him was a little unsettling. You knew a good number of things about Giotto in the two years you had known each other and you definitely knew that he had that face on when he was thinking seriously about something.

"I... what's wrong?" you asked. He smiled then and shook his head reassuring you.

"It's nothing," he said and stepped forward to kiss your cheek, "Goodnight [Name]," he said and turned around to leave. You couldn't move then if you were paid to, not even to lift your hand to wave. He had done that a million times before, so why was it so earth-shatteringly important this time?

When you finally did move, it was to bolt into your house and lock the door leaning against it, partially symbolic of locking out all the crazy thoughts that were dancing the jig in your head and all of them involving a certain blonde Italian. Perhaps you needed to lie down. Yes, that was it, you were tired. Tomorrow, you would begin worrying about what Giotto had meant by "whatever I say."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"You missed a spot," he said with a satisfied smirk.

You muttered under your breath and wiped the spot clean. You had agreed to this so you had tried for a day and a morning to keep your temper at bay.

One more word out of him and you would be smacking him into next Tuesday.

"There, spot gone, is there anything else you would like me to do?" you bit out. He grinned and goaded you further.

"I thought we already came up with the title you would use when addressing me," he said smugly. Oh you would give anything to wipe that smile off his face. No way were you calling him 'supreme overlord' again. It was stupid title anyway. You growled and he laughed as he dodged the rug that flew straight for his face a moment later. You stomped your foot and turned away from him angry mostly with yourself for agreeing to this kind of torture all in a bid to save face.

"Now, now, don't be like that. I was only kidding," he said coming up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and settled his head on your shoulder like he always did if he knew he had crossed the limits of your annoyance and was seeking forgiveness. This time however, it felt a little more... intimate.

"I'm sorry [Name], forgive me?" he said in a low voice dangerously close to your ear. Was it your imagination or was his voice just a tad huskier? You turned to look at him and he pouted mimicking you. You couldn't help but laugh. He never did learn to make a good pouting expression though it wasn't for lack of trying.

You turned around in his arms so you could face him properly and give him the set-down he deserved when you noticed the look in his eyes that mirrored the one he had given you the night after the party.

His arms had settled around your waist and you felt the warmth of his hands seeping through your shirt there. The blush that crept to your face was very evident then as you realised he was leaning in to your face, his breath mingling with yours. You gasped and his hold tightened the tiniest bit then he grazed his lips against yours.

You paused, all thought fleeing. You sank slowly into the calm orange-brown depths of his eyes then shut everything else out when he leaned in and kissed you. He was kissing you! He was actually kissing you! Your legs felt as if they would give way and your heart thudded in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears. And why were his lips so soft?

When he finally did pull away, it took you a moment to re-orient yourself. You met his warm gaze and smiled back at him. He kissed your forehead then and hugged you to him. It began to feel a bit more normal to have him hold you like that. It felt good to be in his arms.

It was so different from the Giotto you had come to know. He had laughed with you, helped you bandage your fingers when they got hurt, burned a dozen batches of cookies with you, cried with you (well, at least handed you tissues from a distance)... It didn't mean all that would change, it just meant that there would be more meaning to all those things now.

"I still have five days of requests," he reminded you. You suddenly noticed how much you liked the soft vibrations of his chest against your ear when he spoke.

"And how may I serve you then, Oh supreme one?" you asked with a chuckle at the stupid title he had chosen for himself. He smiled.

"A date. A real one this time."

"Now that, I don't mind doing, supreme overlord," you replied with a grin.

"And you can stop calling me that. It sounds stupid," he said nuzzling your neck. Silly goose! He had just been teasing you!

But the fact remained that he was _your_ silly goose.


End file.
